When Sherlock Met Sam
by iheartsesshomaru2010
Summary: Sam is a kickass American with a boyish look. After a business trip kicks off with the shooting of a pillar of society, Sam gears up for justice as she sets out to unveil her new friend's killer. Along the way she teams up with a smart mouthing consultant and with his help they uncover a global drug cartel operation with the global drug kingpin being the a surprise to even Sherlock


**CHAPTER ONE: RANDOM STRANGER,**

 **NEW FRIEND**

This is the beginning of my tale. I figure that since John has his blog, I needed a way to tell my truth. Before I just jump into that, allow me to to take you to the very start of my adventure. This is the tale of a small, athletic tomboy from the streets of New York City and a business trip that went a little sideways. Okay. More than a little. This trip had completely capsized before it truly began. So, kick back with a nice cuppa because this could take a while.

I'm Samantha. I'm a tough personal assistant from the Bronx with a swift attitude and swifter leg sweep. Most just call me Sam because of my look. I keep my reddish brown hair short and because I'm a trained professional at three major martial arts with a degree in kicking ass with a background in gymnastics, I have a slim and slender frame that makes me look like a dude. Not that I mind it. I work late and living in a small apartment on the wrong side of the tracks, looking like a dude comes in handy. I rarely ever have trouble with muggers or rapists and those that have tried now know the better respect the women anywhere I am. I have closed down the majority of what goes down in my area and it's slowly becoming the nice part of town because of it.

I'm not trying to brag but rather give a crucial part to this particular story. This actually plays a bigger role so I figured you should know this now. John insists I have a problem with giving important facts in a cooperative manner and it'll save us the "What the hell?! Where did this even come from?!" styled questions I usually get from strangers. As I stated, this is just my truth. While John has his version on his blog, this is my telling of the story from my viewpoint, regardless of whether or not you like it or agree so moving on.

I have a pretty good standing with my employer, a fashion mogul hailing from Italy. He knows my personality well and he knows I get things done. He actually enjoys my company which is a rare thing from those who just meet me. I chalk it up to cultural difference between those hailing from America with a hand in today's generation. He thinks I'm hilarious and I find his company not as annoying as others I have hung out with. Truth be told the comradery we have is actually enjoyable. He can be as bad as I am with mannerisms and such and we just laugh and laugh even if others around us frown upon it. His wife gets in on it every now and again and she is really clever. When she does get in on it, she beats the both of our wisecracks and we all share a good laugh.

Most people think I'm sleeping with him. I don't particularly care for those people but he and his wife understand and so do I so those people don't particularly matter. As a personal assistant and good friend, I usually get more important tasks that he would normally pass to a CEO or a regional supervisor. He trusts me with some of the bigger things over his bigwig underlings and this is where this story really comes in. With the spring fashion show coming up, my boss needed a liaison in London. He knows I have a certain way with smoothing over cultural differences when it involves work and have even scored him a few lasting connections in Japan, Ireland, and Spain through conferences and dinner arrangements. He asked if I would go and, even though I originally said no due to the length of the stay, I eventually agreed.

My apartment is covered by my employer so I only need to do the work and the rest is taken care of. My only female friend from my childhood has already declared her jealousy in a long conversation and has given me a list of places to go and foods to try and her list of things she wants brought back. I was on the plane in less than a week with enough luggage pieces to crash the jumbo jet. I made my way to my seat and saw a conservatively yet fashionably dressed and very refined woman with mousy brown hair reading a book in the seat neighboring mine. I had an aisle seat so I silently sat down and she jumped so high, you would have thought that I dropped a boulder on the seat instead! "Sorry." I said flatly. "Oh, no! Don't be! I was just reading this horrid tale about a grisly murder and was just at the wrong part when you sat down if anything I'm sorry. You must have been truly confused by my reaction." she quickly replied. I smiled but then I caught sight of her book with and was more confused than the time I tried to navigate through Tokyo on foot for the first time. Not only was the book upside down, it was a romance novel.

"...don't worry about it. I'm Sam." I said and extended my hand. "I'm Lady Elisabeth Ann Marie Harkness III." she said and shook my hand. Her accent was from London and I suspected she was as well. The name alone was a dead give away that she was European. Throw in the accent, her clothes, and the City of London fag pin attached to her carryon and I'm 99% sure she lives or is visiting family in London. "Well now I feel like my introduction fell short." I said with a smile. She laughed and said, "Oh, know! I think it was blissfully simple. Can you imagine having to say it in full due to all the classes on social graces? It's dreadfully inefficient if one is in a hurry. I like Sam. It's simple." "Okay. Elle it is." I said and she laughed. "See? That's so much simpler and easier! I quite like the sound of it. Elle. I wish this was how I could introduce myself. Just Elle." she said and then quickly said, "Oh! I'm so sorry! How utterly rude of me to say such things to a complete stranger! You find my melancholia completely thoughtless!"

I held up a hand so she'd slow her roll and said, "I'm not bothered by it. I honestly don't mind being an unbiased ear if you need one. I can understand being made to jump through the hoops of society probably more than anyone on this plane so if you need to vent than by all means please do." She looked at me with a very serious look. It was somber and spoke more than her next words. "I'm fine. I'm sure you understand. It's clear as day that you have a kind heart. I hope you have all the happiness you deserve." she said and was quiet the rest of the trip. I was really freaked out by that. She spoke those words in a cheerful voice with a big smile that didn't reach her eyes. The words sounded like she was saying goodbye which made sense considering we were probably not likely to meet again if things were to go down differently but if the eyes are the windows to the soul than she looked like she staring death in the face. Little did I know, she was.

When the plane touched down 14 hours later, we were just stepping into the airport from the terminal when 5 shots rang out. I dropped to the ground instinctively and saw blood. I quickly checked myself but caught sight of a body out of my peripheral. A conservatively dressed, brunette body that was still grasping her book. I looked out into the crowd and swept my gaze back and forth, taking in my surroundings and noting anything that would help the investigation. She was so nice but something about this screamed that there was something off about all of it and hours later she's shot down. This is no longer a just some passing hunch. This is connected. I want to help. That was all I felt. As strong as I know 17 ways to either paralyze someone or kill them in hand to hand combat, I know that she was nice and she was innocent but involved in something and that something got her killed.

Hours after having given my testimony at the police station, I placed a call to my boss. "I touched down hours ago but there was a shooting at the airport and I'm afraid I'll have to miss dinner tomorrow night with the new client due to the local police calling people back to the station for further questioning." "Don'tchu worry about a thing! You justa make sure you you takea all the time yous need, hah. Are ayou hurt?" he responded. "No. I wasn't the target and it seemed to be a professional hit." I said. "Justa make surea you don't go sniifing around, hah. You're my besta employee and I don'ta know what I woulda do if asomething ahappened to yous." he said "Maybe make some new friends since no one is intimidated by me?" I said. He laughed and told me to take care of myself and a time to call him so I can tell him everything. He knows me so well and even though I hated to miss the dinner arrangements I made, I had to find out more.

I spent the night into the next day on the internet, trying to learn as much about Elle as possible. All I saw was that she was a saint with noble upbringing. At some point, I fell asleep and was having a dream about the night of the incident when a sharp rapping at the door nearly scared the pee out of me. I checked my appearance and cracked the door with my foot ready to slam it. It was the detective I spoke with. "Detective Lestrade, to what do I owe this surprise?" I said as I opened the door and permitted him entrance. He walked in with a sergeant I also saw last night. Donovan is all I got namewise. She is a female with olive skin and wild short and wavy hair matched only by her wild and short temper. She grilled me hard and questioned my theory and completely disregarded everything as hysteria. Detective Lestrade had been quiet during that and now it was a little disconcerting seeing him like this.

Detective Lestrade closed the door and said, "What I'm about to say does not leave this room, understand?" I nodded. "Good. In regards to what you said last night, there seems to be a lot of things that seems to corroborate your theory. Do you know anything more than what you said last night?" Detective Lestrade asked. "No. I just have strong intuition and know how to read between the lines. I didn't even think anything more of it and it was all just a passing thought until we landed." I replied. "Well given that you're a foreigner, I think it's wise if you just keep your head down and go about your business. You don't need to involve yourself and if you need anything at all, here's my card. My personal cell phone number is on the back." he said and he stood up to go walk to the door. I called his cell which he picked up halfway to the door. "I want in on the investigation." I said and hung up.

"I'm sorry but that right there innt gonna happen so just do like your told keep your head down and go bout your business." Donovan said in a snippy tone that I did not care for. "Sergeant Donovan is right. Plus, you don't have any proper training as a detective so just lay low and do what you came to do." Detective Lestrade agreed. "Do you take on consultants?" I asked. "No." said Donovan at the same time Detective Lestrade said "Yes." I gave a brief once over and said, "Detective Lestrade. Your not too inclined to accept help until you know the results are satisfactory but the worn out card in your jacket pocket clearly shows you frequently call that number often in times of stressful situations possibly work related. Your pocket has a receipt sticking out with a store logo at the top from a shoe store I saw on my way here from the station that specializes in orthopedic assistance related to podiatric issues. With the way your standing, I'd find another doctor. You need to stand and not slump so much or else you put too much weight forward and compensate with your stance. Do I know this as a fact? No. That is a simple observation but any competent doctor worth their words would tell you the same."

Donovan rounded on me, "You cheeky little bitch!" I interrupted her rage and said, "Now you. You are sleeping with a married man. How do I know? Facts. You're wearing a scent that is masculine so I'm going to guess deodorant. Now that much simply says you spent the night with a man and not necessarily in an intimate way so how did I get that it's intimate? You've been glancing at your phone every time you're no scowling at me. Why? It's not to check the time for some appointment since I caught sight of the schedule and today you work until 7 at night so next is waiting for a call. Okay. From who? The next damnable piece of evidence is the emergency contraceptive poking out of it's hiding place from the partially zipped hidden pocket along with some condoms. Now for the marriage portion of today's show, The background on your phone shows a silhouette of what is presumably a male holding a female from behind with the hands displayed in front. The male has a wedding band and the female does not. The bone structures belong to you and another detective from the same precinct which can't be proven by the picture because it lacks the heads but an expert specializing in anatomic distinction can confirm my theory or you can just simply say that I have gifts that can contribute to the investigation or I can tell his wife." Both stood in a stunned silence. Finally the next words were something of a relief. "Your hired." was Detective Lestrade's blessing.

They both came back and sat down. "How do we know you won't get yourself shot at?" Donovan asked quietly. I love when knocking down someone so uppity actually helps move things along. "I'm professionally trained in three major martial arts and I'm a gymnast with the gold to show for it. Detective Lestrade whistled low as an added exclamation. "Do you think you're just going to flip over the bullet then?" Donovan asked snidely. "I think you should check your attitude and try again but to speed this up so I can get back to investigating to answer your question yes. My response time is impeccable and my skills are unmatched. I can drop and roll under it and then pop back up while kicking the gun out of the perps hand and be ready to make a citizen's arrest before they even know what hit 'em." I answered. They blinked in response. "I'm in this to catch her killer and nothing more so keep your money and put it towards a reward for any information leading to the arrest of the the person or persons involved in the murder of Elle." I finished. "I think you mean to say Lady Elisabeth Ann Marie Harkness III." Detective Lestrade said. "No. Elle hated how complicated it was to say all of that and she rather prefered Elle so Elle is who she is to me." I said. "She was known for her refined manner and social graces." Detective Lestrade laughed. "She hated it all. It was overly stated and ground in as a law of society. She wished that things were simpler for her." I said. "And we're supposed to believe that she told all of this to a complete stranger?" Donovan asked incredulously. "She was bursting with it when I met her. She knew she was going to die and if you knew you were going to die, you would slip as much as possible without seeming too improper. She was almost hysterical. I believe there was more to it but I don't have enough. Was she involved in something she didn't understand?"

They stayed and brought me up to speed. It was well after Donovan's quitting time and we were a little closer to being friends. She and I had an understanding of what to expect from each other and I think the argument we had gave us a good starting point. She even invited me to meet for drinks with some of the other precinct members. When they left, I got a shower, got dressed, and hit the bricks. Apparently, there was something that she was involved in without knowing the truth about what she was doing. A particular program she was running to help feed street urchins was under police scrutiny because of some of the volunteers. Among the dogooders, were several multicount offenders ranging from petty theft and brutality to drugs and even murder. I was heading to scope out the place and was nearly there when my phone buzzed. _Crap! I forgot!_ I greeted my boss as I answered the phone and started telling him what happened. He understood why I was late and it pained me to have to lie again but if he thought that I was going after Elle's murderer, he wouldn't allow me to do it and would probably have my apartment held as ransom for my return. "Hey, Boss. I was told to stay in London as a suspect until this whole thing clears up. If I leave before they have tried and convicted the culprit, then I run the risk of extradition and can be held for six months for impeding the investigation. If I'm caught leaving, I spend two years in London Correctional. I can't come back until there's a lawful conviction." There was silence on his end and I wondered if he that I expected him to flit the bill and was waiting for me to ask or if he didn't believe me and was debating whether or not to say so. During my talk with Detective Lestrade, I was able to convince him to relay the same story to my boss if he called to confirm and not to take no for an answer.

"Imma sorry to get you amixed up in thisa mess. I hopea in time yous forgive me. I will keepa funding youra tripa and you get back to me when you're athrougha, hah." he said and the line clicked as he hung up. What did he mean he was sorry? I kept on running through any and all of the possible connections he could have had to this and as I walked I heard another set of footsteps echoing from the alley. I stopped my train of thought but kept the pace I had so they didn't know that I was onto them. I kept my ears focused on the sounds of the footsteps as their was a second one that I heard in the same vicinity as the first. I strained to hear if there was more but there wasn't. I figured that they were trying to herd me towards the rest of the gang on watch duty. _Shit! They must have been listening in the whole time!_ That means that I could very well be headed for the same fate as Elle...or so they think!

I raced down an alley to my right and zigzaged until I rerouted myself to where I wanted to go. The warehouse that held the food for the program Elle ran lay in front of me and as I inched forward a drunken voice hissed suddenly in my ear, "Whuddya tink yer doin', bub?" and his hands grabbed me firmly from behind, pinning my arms to my sides. "I'm about to make you sing a high note and then say 'Goodnight, London'." I snap back as I jab my elbow back with such a force that it not only breaks free but it continues to speed further back and down until I jab it into his dick with such a force that he gets knocked back a few inches as he falls to the ground, howling in pain and I work the pressure point at the neck that makes him pass out. "So much uglier when he's asleep." I said to myself. "I beg to differ." said a voice from the alley I had stepped out of minutes ago. "I think he is just as ugly no matter what." the voice continued as he stepped into the light. Winter pale, nearly luminescent skin shone under the streetlight as chestnut curls were tousled lightly by the wind. His lanky frame stepped aside as a second man stepped into view. This one wasn't as tall and seemed to have a psychosomatic limp and was a little more cautious of me. As he kept leering at me, I surmised he has some trust issues. I also saw that there was nowhere to run. They started to close the distance and I saw that I no longer had the running start that would have needed to flip cleanly over them. I turned sideways so I could assess the building behind me and look for any sign of an exit while I kept a trained eye on them.

"There's nowhere left to run." said the first one to step out of the alley as he closed the last of the distance and swiftly had me pressed against the wall. He had a good holding strategy as he kept one leg pressed firmly against the wall between my legs and used his body to pin mine to the wall. He had my leg with the knee that could have kneed him in the babymaker pinned sharply to the wall and held both of my hands pinned high over my head forcing my neck to remain against the wall which limited my head movement and thusly eliminated headbutting my way out of here. "Let's have a little chat. You and I. Man to man." he said and he took out his cell. "What do you know about this woman?" he said and on his phone was a photo of Elle. I figured that he was hired muscle and due to my small stature I easily pass for a kid. This is one of those times I was happy to be mini, mighty, and mischievous. "I don't know anything! I was trying to see what their delivery schedule looked like! I need to know if they plan to stick to the schedule! Some of us won't make it!" I cried in a husky and sick sounding tone.

"Who is us?" he demanded. "Sherlock." called the untrusting one. "Hold that thought, John. I'm about to make this punk squeal like piglet." replied Sherlock. "Sherlock. Now." John called again. "Stay put." he growled and walked back to John. While the talked, I silently jumped and grabbed hold of the edge of the roof and pulled myself up. By the time they turned back, I was several roofs away. I watched Sherlock look around and then watched as he kicked and punched the air in frustration and then I ducked down a fire escape and made my way home. I pulled out a composition notebook and wrote everything down. I decided that it was time for a good night's sleep and then tomorrow I could see if Sherlock and John could be Googled for more information before I set up dinner with the client like I was sent here to do.


End file.
